


The Ties That Bind Us

by marauderstars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26970373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marauderstars/pseuds/marauderstars
Summary: "He was still scowling at the doorway through which Dawlish had just walked when his eyes were met with just about as big a surprise as he could have imagined. At first he thought he WAS imagining things, but there was no mistaking who he was looking at. White blond hair, angular features, grey eyes… Draco Malfoy had just walked into the room."Five years post-war, Harry takes a lot of things for granted. It's a given that he ended up working as an Auror for the Ministry of Magic. It's a given that he's a workaholic. And it's a given that his plan to revolutionise the problems in the Ministry is going slower than expected.But when a blast from the past arrives in the form of Draco Malfoy being brought in as a consultant on a big case, Harry starts questioning everything.A story about the things that pull us together, and the things that bring us back to ourselves.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 5
Kudos: 35





	1. The File

It was eleven o’clock at night. Or perhaps it was only ten thirty. Or maybe closer to midnight. Fuck it, Harry had lost all track of time. He touched his forehead to the desk lightly, letting out a monumental sigh.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was deserted. Even the Investigators who usually stayed late to pour over files and leads and blackboards had long since left. The last house elf, mop and bucket in hand, had squeaked at the sight of Harry still at his desk half an hour ago, backed out of his office, and hadn’t returned. Harry sighed again. They really ought to do something about the house elves. Hermione hated that the Ministry still used them. So did he, all things considered.

Harry’s head was still resting on his desk when he heard a sharp rap at his open door. Snapping his head up, he was both shocked and a little embarrassed at seeing Robards, his head of Department, entering his office.

“Er,” Harry said stupidly, “I thought I was the last one here.”

“You will be in a moment,” said Robards, “my wife sent me a Howler last time I stayed past eleven, so I’m off. Just wanted to drop this off before I left.” He threw a thick file onto Harry’s desk. “I’ll be out of the office on a field check tomorrow morning and I knew you’d want to get a jump on it. It’s a big one.”

Harry grinned in spite of himself. Robards wasn’t one to exaggerate, so handing Harry a file this size late at night and calling the case “a big one” was about as close as he ever got to admitting something very big indeed was happening.

“Death Eaters?” Harry guessed, sliding his thumb into the spine of the file and pulling it towards him.

“Maybe. That group we’ve been tracking in Wiltshire?” Harry nodded in recognition. “They’ve gone underground. Totally disappeared. And in the meantime, there have been three Muggle disappearances in the area, and,” Robards shuddered slightly, “a reported sighting of Greyback near Stonehenge.”

Harry felt his mouth go dry. “What?”

“Yeah,” Robards sighed. “We’re bringing a team together tomorrow. It’s all in the file. Anyway, I’m off. Don’t stay too late Harry.” And with that, he pulled up the hood of his cloak, gave Harry a curt nod, and swept out of the room.

Greyback. The highest profile Death Eater still at large. The ultimate unfinished business from the war. The niggle at the back of Harry’s mind as he fell asleep every night for the last five years. Harry opened the file and started to read, all thoughts of heading home for the evening out of his head.

It was a standard file - timelines, witness statements, photographs from the field - as far as Harry could tell the Investigators had been tracking the suspected Death Eaters in Wiltshire for a long time. He’d been aware of the case, of course, but with nothing concrete to go on for several months, he hadn’t had much involvement. Towards the end of the thick binder, however, new information started to appear. An undercover operation that had unearthed whispers of a plot to target Muggles. Sudden loss of contact with the undercover operatives. Several disappearances. And, taped into the very back of the file, a vial of silvery vapour labeled _“possible Greyback sighting?”_ Drawing in a shaky breath, Harry uncorked the vial, stood up from his desk and approached, with some trepidation even after all these years, the Penseive in the corner of his office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a teeny tiny beginning - chapter 2 is much longer I promise. If you're here from Instagram, thank you for checking out my ao3 - your ongoing support means the world. Please leave comments and kudos! I crave validation and more importantly feedback.


	2. The Reunion

Having read the file cover to cover several times, Harry was well-prepared for the meeting the following afternoon. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was Ron barging into his office at lunch time, sopping wet, brandishing a brown paper bag. 

“Doughnuts!” Ron boomed, dripping all over the carpet as he shook the bag gleefully. Harry merely raised an eyebrow. “There’s a new Muggle place opened up round the corner and their doughnuts are excellent,” Ron elaborated, and he threw the bag to Harry, who caught it and opened it, still looking at Ron. 

“It’s raining then,” he observed. 

“Well yeah,” Ron glanced around Harry’s windowless office. “Haven’t you been outside all day?”

“Nope. No time. There’s a big briefing at two. Robards is getting a team together for the Wiltshire case.” 

“Still,” said Ron, “that’s hardly more important than _lunch._ ” 

Dignifying this with the slightest of eye-rolls, Harry took a bite of doughnut (it really was good) and beckoned for Ron to come in and close the door. “What?” said Ron, “you’ve got that look on your face.” 

Harry frowned. “What look?” 

“That look you get when you’re about to obsess over something.” 

Harry thought better of denying that he possessed any such tendency, and sighed. “There’s been a sighting of Greyback.” 

“Oh,” said Ron, dumbstruck. “Shit.” 

“Yeah.” 

“A sighting by who?” Ron seated himself on Harry’s desk and thumbed at the large pile of files next to him. 

“A family in West Amesbury think they saw him on their land two nights ago.” 

“Wizarding family?” 

“Yeah. The Ackermans. Alden Ackerman gave the memory and a statement to the Ministry last night.” 

“Have you seen the memory?” Ron asked. Harry nodded. Ron waited, but when Harry did say anything else, he pressed, “and? Was it him?” 

“All the memory proves is that Ackerman definitely believes he saw Greyback, you know that.” 

“Yeah, but you always just know with this stuff Harry. What does your gut say?” 

Harry sighed and took his time chew his last bite of doughnut before answering. “I think with all the other stuff going on in that area, it’s too much to be a coincidence.” Ron was silent. There was nothing to say. If Greyback really was surfacing again, five years after the end of the war, it couldn’t mean anything good. 

“How’s Hermione?” Harry asked by way of changing the subject. 

“Fine. Good actually. She’s organising two separate rallies this weekend and she’s speaking at a convention on institutional corruption next month so she’s been busy.” 

“In her element then,” said Harry. Ron grinned. 

“You’ve got to come round for dinner or something soon. Mum keeps nagging me to update her on how you’re doing.” 

“Just tell her I’m working several dangerous cases, sleeping very little, growing my hair even longer and shagging several nameless men every other night,” Harry deadpanned. Ron snorted. 

“Is any of that true?” 

“Some of it,” said Harry, grinning and running his hand through his now shoulder-length hair. “Anyway, do you want to be on this Wiltshire team? Might be a long one, lots of overtime.” 

Ron grimaced. “Lots of overtime isn’t exactly a selling point for most people, mate.” Harry shrugged. 

“Have it you way. Your team still working on the Travers trial?” 

“Yep, going on two months now,” said Ron. 

They spent an enjoyable half an hour discussing their respective Auror team’s cases. Harry didn’t mind that he and Ron rarely worked together - it kept any unwanted competitiveness in their friendship at bay and they had very different approaches to the job anyway. Ron didn’t take his work home with him. Harry took his work everywhere. 

After Ron had left and Harry had worked his way through some of the paperwork on his desk, he made his way to the main meeting room for the briefing. Forgoing a seat in favour of leaning against a desk at the back of the room, he watched the team Robards had assembled start to trickle in. Celeste Norwood and Angus Blake, the two recent graduates from the Auror training programme, were the first arrivals. Both looked nervously excited to be called to such an important meeting. Then in came senior Investigators Cassius Fox and Guneet Gulshan, whom Harry liked, followed by Robards himself and, much to Harry’s anger, John Dawlish, a senior Auror whose wartime incompetence might have been forgiven by the Ministry, but not by Harry. 

He was still scowling at the doorway through which Dawlish had just walked when his eyes were met with just about as big a surprise as he could have imagined. At first he thought he _was_ imagining things, but there was no mistaking who he was looking at. White blond hair, angular features, grey eyes… _Draco Malfoy had just walked into the room._

Harry felt suddenly very hot and then very cold at the same time. His eyes raked over Malfoy, taking in everything about his appearance from his familiar, haughty expression to the less familiar way his hair now hung slightly over his face or his decidedly Muggle attire, which despite being all black and very unassuming, stood out in the room full of fully-robed Ministry workers. 

Malfoy kept his head down, crossing the room quickly and standing to the side, not making eye contact with anyone. If his goal was to blend in, however, his height and his pale, ghostly glow were helping very little. People were already raising their eyebrows at each other. Celeste Norwood had whispered “oh my god,” as Malfoy had entered the room. 

_Why on earth is he here?_ Harry hadn’t seen Malfoy in almost four years, not since the post-war trials in which they had both given evidence against several Death Eaters. From what he knew, Malfoy had very much kept a low profile since then. His parents had both been sent to Azkaban - a fate Draco himself had avoided largely due to Harry’s evidence in his defence. 

It took Harry a moment to realise, while still staring at Malfoy, that Robards had started talking. He shook himself out of his stupor, trying to pay attention, but he could still feel Malfoy’s presence in the room like some kind of electric charge. 

“You all know why you’re here,” Robards was saying. “After a months-long operation tracking a suspicious group of potential Death Eaters in Wiltshire, the time has come to act. There have been three Muggle disappearances in the county in the last few weeks, the group we’ve been tracking has disappeared, and we’ve had a possible sighting of Fenrir Greyback near Stonehenge.” A ripple of alarm pulsed through the room. Harry glanced at Malfoy again. He didn’t look surprised. 

“We think this means the group could be planning something big. As such, we’re bringing together a taskforce to track them down and bring them in. This investigation will need to be kept _top_ secret. No leaks. If there is even the slightest whisper of what we’re doing it could put our undercover operatives in danger _and_ sabotage any chance of a successful mission. I’m putting Dawlish in charge on this one, the rest of you will report to him.” 

Harry made no effort to hide his look of utter incredulity. Robards had just said the words “no leaks” and “Dawlish in charge” in almost the same breath, which was, in Harry’s opinion, a bit rich considering that Dawlish had spent much of the Second Wizarding War being Confunded by Death Eaters. 

“Here’s what we know so far,” Robards continued. “The group we’re tracking consists of three known former Death Eaters or Death Eater affiliates - Augustus Rookwood, Felix Jugson and Gregory Goyle. We can’t confidently add Greyback to that list, but the fact that he’s been sighted in the area doesn’t bode well. With those three we’ve observed a group of about twelve others - identities unknown - coming and going from a residence near Salisbury.” 

“If Rookwood’s been located why haven’t we just arrested him?” asked Angus Blake boldly. “He’s wanted for about twenty different crimes.” 

“Because if we arrest Rookwood now we have no chance of finding out what the others are planning. They’ll move their base, go to ground and the whole operation will have been for nothing,” explained Cassius Fox. 

“By the sound of it they might have already done that,” said Blake. “Didn’t you say we’ve lost track of them?” he put to Robards. 

“Not entirely,” said Robards. “We’re bringing in a private er... consultant, who has contact with some members of the group.” He gestured then at Malfoy, who gave the smallest of nods. 

“Bring in a Death Eater to find the Death Eaters, seems sound,” said Blake. His tone dripped with resentment, and was echoed in the expressions of many others in the room. Harry watched as Malfoy closed his eyes, bowed his head and seemed to shrink into himself at Blake’s words. 

“Shut it, Blake,” he heard himself say. Malfoy lifted his eyes and turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. Harry was suddenly very aware of his heart hammering in his chest. Could everyone else hear that? It felt deafening. 

Blake went very red at being rebuked by Harry, and didn’t say anything else. 

“Mr Malfoy has a substantial property in the area in question, as well as a... personal history with some of the suspects. He has kindly agreed to offer his home as a base for our operation, along with his knowledge of the suspects. His help will be crucial, and is not up for discussion,” said Robards, eyeing Blake shrewdly. “So,” Robards continued, silencing the whispers in the room, “the case will work as follows. Dawlish will direct the team from the Ministry office. Potter, you’ll lead the field team in Wiltshire with Fox and Gulshan, and any other Aurors you want with you. I’ll trust your judgement on that. Blake and Norwood, you’ll be on standby for anything the team needs. Be prepared. I don’t want any mistakes on this one.” 

“Is it a good idea for Harry to be in the field for this?” asked Cassius Fox earnestly. “Bit of a dead giveaway if the Chosen One himself is spotted skulking around Wiltshire.” 

“We don’t do stealth and concealment training for nothing, Cass,” said Harry dryly, but without malice. Cassius chuckled and nodded. “Fine. But don’t take Weasley with you. He’s about as stealthy as an Erumpent and the two of you together makes for front page bloody news every time you work a case.” Harry grimaced, as this was perfectly true, and he hated it. He chanced a look at Malfoy, who was frowning and not looking at him. 

“Ron doesn’t want in anyway. He’s tied up with the Travers trial. I’ll pick a discreet team, don’t worry.” This seemed enough to settle the issue, so Robards moved on. “If there are no other concerns to raise, I’ll let those of you who haven’t had a chance to read the case file get yourselves familiar with it. Potter, you’ll re-convene at four o’clock with Fox, Gulshan and Malfoy along with the other Aurors you choose. Dawlish, you’ll give our rookies here their first assignments and brief the Minister on what we’re up to. Any questions?” There were none, so everybody started to file out, a sense of excitement about the looming mission hanging in the air. Harry could not honestly say he shared this feeling. He felt flustered and strangely uneasy. He hated reporting to Dawlish. He couldn’t see how he was going to work with Draco Malfoy. All in all he wasn’t looking forward to this mission much at all. 

* * *

Harry paced the length of his office (all four or so meters of it) and tried to convince himself that he’d made the right decision. The Auror team he had assembled for the case was skilled and trustworthy, there was no denying that. But not one of them would be happy about working with Malfoy - so much so that he hadn’t mentioned it when he’d recruited them for the mission. He knew Neville would want to work the case regardless, but he was worried about how unpleasant Malfoy might be to him in the process. Ernie Macmillan would trust Harry’s judgement in the end. And he knew Cassius and Guneet would be fine. It would be fine. 

Completely lost to his pacing, he almost collided with someone walking through his always open office door. 

“Steady on there Harry!” It was Guneet. 

“Sorry. Hi.” 

“Cass and I were wondering where you wanted to meet at four?” 

“Just in here, I suppose,” said Harry distractedly. 

“Right you are. Who else have you pulled?” 

“Neville and Ernie.”

“Thank God. Cass will be pleased. He’s been trying to get Neville’s attention for two months now.” 

Harry laughed. “I don’t think he’s Neville’s type to be perfectly honest with you.”

“What exactly is Neville’s type, just out of curiosity?” 

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Green and leafy? Anyway tell Cass he better not let his feelings get in the way of doing a good job on this.” 

“Tell him yourself,” Guneet quipped. 

“You know perfectly well that he won’t listen to me. Anyway. You two okay with the Malfoy thing?” 

Guneet raised his dark eyebrows. “Robards didn’t make it seem like we had much of a choice, did he? Besides, shouldn’t I be asking you that? From what I hear the two of you had a pretty intense rivalry going on back at school.” 

Harry turned away, chewing his lip. “Yeah well, we’re adults now,” he muttered. 

“Do you think we can trust him?” asked Guneet bluntly. Turning back around and releasing his bottom lip from his teeth, Harry took his time before answering. 

“Yes,” was all he said. He didn’t know how to explain his answer, and luckily Guneet didn’t ask him to. He merely shrugged and nodded, as if to say that Harry’s judgement was good enough for him. 

“Fair enough. I’ll see you back in here at four. Malfoy’s sitting up in the lunch room. Want me to tell him?” Harry nodded through the lump in his throat that had appeared at the thought of having Draco Malfoy in his office. Guneet gave him a playful salute and left. Harry groaned and flopped down into his desk chair. Between Malfoy, a secret band of wanted Death Eaters and Cassius’ apparent unrequited pining for Neville, exactly what kind of shit-show had he gotten himself into? 

By four o’clock, Harry had read the case file three more times, attempted to tidy his disaster of a desk, and tied his hair back self-consciously in a messy bun, untied it, and then tied it up again. He was sitting on his desk dividing up copies of his file notes when there was a knock at his door. Looking up, he saw Malfoy, framed by the afternoon light from the false windows in the hallway behind him. 

“Most people just come in without knocking,” he said, running a hand over his hair. 

“Most people enjoy an unprofessional level of familiarity with you here, then,” Malfoy returned. Harry laughed, partly out of nerves, and partly because this was perfectly true. Malfoy scowled, and Harry composed himself. 

“How have you been?” 

“Let’s not bother with the unnecessary pleasantries, Potter,” said Malfoy, not meeting Harry’s eyes. His voice had lost much of its familiar drawl, which had been replaced by a depth and softness that Harry found strangely charming. 

“Have it your way. I thought you pure-bloods were big on manners, that’s all.” 

“Consider yourself spared from any such standards.” 

Harry wasn’t exactly sure why Malfoy’s frostiness surprised him. Seven years’ solid dislike did not simply evaporate under the guise of worldly maturity, but he'd been expecting at least a bit of snarky banter. “Right, well,” he said, changing his tone to businesslike, “how much do you know about this case and how exactly are you going to help?” 

“Your boss wants me to offer my home as a base for fieldwork. So in theory, the Manor and grounds are at your disposal. It’s close to where the group has been meeting, so Robards thinks it’d make a good headquarters.” The irony of this hung in the air between them - Voldemort had had exactly the same thought about Malfoy Manor, once upon a time. Harry said nothing of it, and neither did Malfoy. He continued, “I haven’t had contact with Goyle since the trials, but we move in similar circles. I can probably help locate him. And I know Rookwood and Jugson very well, from… before. My job, as I understand it, is to consult with your team about what they’re likely to be planning, what magic they’re likely to be using, who they might be working with, and get you into any meetings or hiding places that require one of these.” He tapped his left forearm, and seemed to suppress the slightest of shudders. 

“And why exactly are you doing this?” asked Harry, glossing over Malfoy’s reference to his Dark Mark with a strange stab of something between mercy and guilt. 

“Does my potential input sound helpful or not?” 

Harry paused. It sounded very helpful indeed. Malfoy took Harry’s silence as assent, and turned his attention to Harry’s office. Harry could see that he had a lot of things to say about it, but was surprised when Malfoy seemed to keep them to himself. Just then, Neville and Ernie walked into the room, apparently in the middle of an animated discussion. 

“It’s not a question of _tactics_ ,” Ernie was saying emphatically, “if Kato plays as badly as he did last match, no amount of strategy will save them.”

“I still think they’ve got a shot,” said Neville. “Don’t they Harry?” 

“The Kestrels?” Harry momentarily forgot about Malfoy and slid comfortably into the debate about Quidditch. “I doubt it. Kato’s not their only problem. There’s a big hole in their defence since they traded Pendleton and their next match is against Puddlemere, whose Chasers are about as good as they get.” Ernie clapped his hands pompously as though Harry’s opinion settled the matter. Neville maintained a dignified silence at this. And then he saw Malfoy. 

“Oh.” 

Ernie turned to see what Neville was looking at. “Oh.” 

Harry was struck by the mad urge to laugh, but luckily, Cassius and Guneet walked in at precisely that moment. 

“What a team!” said Cassius heartily, at which Malfoy rolled his eyes. 

“Are we waiting on anyone else?” asked Ernie. 

“Nope, this is it. I like my teams small.” 

“Ron didn’t want in on this one?” said Neville. Harry shook his head. Neville’s eyes darted over to Malfoy and then back at Harry, his face a mix of curiosity and confusion. 

"Malfoy lives in the area and can help us with tracking some of the suspects,” Harry explained. 

“Interesting choice,” said Ernie. 

“Not my decision,” Harry responded. 

“Let’s just get this over with,” Malfoy said tightly, crossing the room and leaning against the far wall, arms folded over his chest. Everybody else distributed themselves around Harry’s office. Harry remained sitting on his desk. 

“Right. Well. You’ve all had time to go through the case file by now, so you know what we’re dealing with. I want to get into the field as soon as possible - as in, tomorrow. Is that going to be a problem for anyone?” He was asking mainly for the benefit of Guneet, whom he knew had a wife and young son. 

“I’ll make it work,” Guneet nodded. 

“Good. I’m going to organise accommodation in Salisbury. I don’t need to remind you all how important it is that we keep a low profile. Polyjuice, invisibility aides and Disillusionment Charms are about to become your bread and butter. Malfoy, if we’re going to use the Manor as a base, we’ll need to Apparate directly into the grounds each day, if that’s something you’re up for.” Malfoy gave a small nod. “Good. The first thing we need to do is put together a map of what’s been happening where in the area. And I want to interview the Ackermans about what they saw the other night. We’ll convene at Malfoy Manor at ten o’clock tomorrow morning.” 

“Tomorrow’s _Saturday,_ Harry,” spluttered Ernie. Harry exchanged an incredulous look with Guneet and Cassius. 

“Oh sorry, are you an Auror or an office clerk?” 

Ernie looked mutinous, but had the good grace not to respond. “Look,” Harry sighed, “this is a _huge_ case. We’re talking about some of the highest profile Death Eaters still at large. Time is precious and we have very little to go on. If you’re not prepared for a big mission with lots of overnight field work, weekends and long hours, tell me now and I’ll find someone who is.” When nobody spoke, Harry slid off his desk and started handing out copies of his notes to the team. “Read these by tomorrow. Don’t shout about what we’re doing. Get a good night’s sleep. Questions?” Harry glanced at Malfoy, who was looking at him with a very odd expression - something like surprise, or concern - Harry couldn’t quite place it. 

“I’ve got a question,” said Neville. “If we really do find Greyback as part of this mission, the current Ministry position is to kill him on sight.” Harry nodded. “I assume you want us to ignore that?” 

Harry gave Neville a very sharp look. “Yeah. I want Greyback brought in _alive._ If anybody deserves to face justice, he does,” he said, thinking of Bill, and Lavender… Of Remus. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“I know, I know. I just wanted to be clear. I don’t think any of us agree with the kill on sight directives anyway,” Neville put to the room. Everybody murmured their agreement. Relieved, and feeling vindicated at his choice of team more than ever, Harry made an effort to lighten the mood. 

“Great. Well if there’s nothing else, I’ll see you all tomorrow.” 

“A few of the lads are heading to the Leaky for Friday night drinks if you fancy it Harry,” said Ernie. 

“Might see you there,” said Harry without much conviction. The team filed out in reasonably good spirits. Ernie slapped Harry on the back, and Cassius muttered “don’t stay too late,” to Harry as he passed. 

“Malfoy,” said Harry just as Draco was about the cross the threshold. He turned on the spot, long fingers gripping the doorframe, one sharp eyebrow raised. “I probably should have asked if ten o’clock tomorrow was alright with you,” he said. 

“Probably.” 

“Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem.” Malfoy wasn’t looking at him. Harry frowned. 

“Well in that case, I’ll be by early tomorrow to hear everything you know before the group arrives.” 

“Fine,” said Malfoy. “Am I dismissed?” 

“You don’t have to be a prat about it.” 

“If it’s all the same to you, I don’t want to be anything about it. I just want to get it done,” Malfoy said of it. Harry sighed and waved his hand to indicate to Malfoy that he was indeed dismissed. Malfoy spared him one last contemptuous look, and left. 

Feeling inexplicably annoyed at himself, Harry sat back behind his desk and scribbled a quick memo to Ron to say that he would be working late. But once he had put the quill down, he found himself casting around for anything that actually needed doing. He felt restless and eager to start the mission tomorrow, but besides that, he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him more - the fact that Draco Malfoy was being so unnecessarily hostile - or the fact that he, Harry, seemed to mind so damn much. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed your first glimpse of Draco/Harry interaction. They're one of my favourite pairs to write, especially dialogue-wise, so I really have to restrain myself in these early stages. Please let me know what you think of the story so far in the comments, or ask me any questions you might have! I have no beta for this fic so please feel free to point out errors if you see them. Kudos are appreciated greatly. 
> 
> \- Reed.


End file.
